A Return of the Hero
by jessicaohwell
Summary: Sherlock has just returned to 221b Baker St. to alert both John and Ms. Hudson of his return, but John is not where Sherlock would have expected him to be.
1. Chapter 1

**[AN:] So all my AN's will be bolded, for future reference, incase I want to slip something in :P  
This is my first even attempt at a Sherlock Fic, but what the hey. I've not yet decided if John is going to make it or not, but weather or not he does, the story will go on. The only thing possibly not 'age friendly' is language. No smut in this.**

**I'm not the owner of Sherlock (Poop :( )  
Reviews anyone? :)**

Sherlock Holmes sat in his flat thinking about the alarmingly extreme current events that had preceded the death of Jim Moriarty, and well, in all fairness, almost Sherlock himself. Consumed with guilt, he sat on the couch in front of the fireplace, rarely lit, but held some rather wonderful possessions above it, a skull, an antique box, and a book about war. He picked up his cell phone and dialled a number, that number being the same very number belonging to John Watson's phone. He did not hit 'send', but instead hit 'back'. He scowled at himself. He faked his own death hadn't he? With help from Molly, he escaped with some broken ribs and nothing more. He Picked the phone up again. Then put it down. Then picked it up. The process of picking-up-and-putting-down went on for a good twenty-two minutes.

"Goddamnit get a hold of yourself!" He yelled, grabbing at his hair and standing up. He stared at the phone. He had to do it, he couldn't just leave John could he? After all they've been through… he sighed, an angry sigh. But he was only angry at himself, nothing more than the fact that he couldn't even dial a simple phone number. He cursed and sat back down on the sofa. Ms. Hudson! She should know of him still being alive, her being their housekeeper and all. Sherlock stood abruptly and walked out of the flat and to Ms. Hudson's door, he knocked three times, very hard.

"Coming! I'm coming!" A voice from inside yelled out. Ms. Hudson. She opened the door and looked at Sherlock Holmes standing in front of her, alive as the sun above us.

"Oh dear," was all she muttered before she fainted. Sherlock sighed again and picked her up, placing her on her own couch, then promptly leaving her flat. Well then, if fainting was her reaction, what might John think? And Lestrade? Sherlock laughed, the look on Anderson's face when he finds out… He pushed the thought aside and ran (well, sprinted), towards his phone, and dialled John's number. He simply could not wait any longer, and John had a right to know.

_Ring_

_Ring_

_Ring_

_Ring_

_Ring_

"Hello you've reached the phone of John Watson, I'm not able to take your call, please leave a message."

_Beep._

Sherlock hung up the phone and threw it violently on the couch. Goddamn him! Where is he that he can't answer a phone call from his thought-to-be-deceased friend? He walked into the kitchen and made some tea, green tea, with a few biscuits on the side. He served two cups and placed two plates on the living room table. He sat down and looked at the table. Right. John isn't here. He ignored the extra plate and tea cup, and sipped his own. Approximately thirteen minutes passes until Ms. Hudson came barreling in the door way screaming a mixture of loving and hating words at him. He simply stared at her and smiled.

"Ah Ms. Hudson!" He exclaimed for no particular reason.

"Sherlock you, how dare, and you, and John, and you, the newspapers, John, I-"

"Oh come off it Ms. Hudson, I've alerted John of my liveliness, and as of now, have alerted you as well." Sherlock smiled at her and placed his tea down.

"Oh Sherlock." She said, her eyes suddenly filled with sadness.

"Ms. Hudson, it's fine to be put off by my arrival, but I'd like for you to join me with some tea. Might calm you down." Sherlock gestured to the extra set, when suddenly, Ms. Hudson started to cry. Not just my-dog-died-this-morning crying, more like a my-first-born-died-this-morning cry. Sherlock jumped to her attention at once.

"Ms. Hudson what is going on? Are you not pleased to see me, I assumed that alive me was better than dead me, lord knows the world could use a brain like this, please Ms. Hudson try to calm down." But she continued to sob, they both sank onto the couch and after a few minutes (Which seemed like hours to Sherlock, having never dealt with a weeping old woman before) she stopped.

"Sherlock, I have something to tell you."

"What is it Ms. Hudson, please tell me."

"Sherlock.." she choked on a sob.

"Ms. Hudson this is not the time for games!" he said a bit roughly. She looked at him, her eyes once again filled with tears.

"It's John dear." She said quietly.

"He's in the ICU at the Memorial Hospital Sherlock." She began to weep again, leaning into Sherlock's shoulder


	2. Chapter 2 Hospital

Sherlock was baffled to say the least. What had happened? Was he going to be okay? He did not ask Ms. Hudson any of these questions, but instead pulled her to her feet and out the door.

"Sherlock, Sherlock! Sherlock what are we doing?" She asked him as he called over a taxi.

"I need to see John." He said simply. "Memorial hospital." He added to the taxi driver as they got in.

_Sherlock stands in front of John, wearing a large winter jacket. John looks around. They are at a pool. John wonders why Sherlock is wearing that jacket at a pool. Sherlock removes his coat and places it on the floor._

_"Christ Sherlock what is going on?" John says staring at the bombs strapped to Sherlock's body. Sherlock says nothing. John takes a step foreword and the whole room is filled with the laughter of Jim Moriarty. The bombs explode._

Beeping. Fast, loud, high, beeping. Nurses and doctors surround him. He drifts off again.

_John is tied to a chair. He tries to move but he is bound too tight. The room is very dark and very empty. Someone enters._

_"Hello John." Says Sherlock._

_"Oh its you." John says with relief. "Now help me get out of here, do you know how I got here?" He asks. Sherlock remains silent and walks towards him, and holds out his hand, in it, a knife._

_"Sherlock what the hell is going on?" John asks. Sherlock again says nothing and strikes._

The beeping is over as John opens his eyes again. A nurse walks in and stands beside him. This is when he realizes he is in a hospital.

"Hello John." She says. "You've been asleep for 18 hours." John tries to mutter something.

"Don't push yourself, you're very injured. It's alright. It's may the 23rd. Tuesday, 5:49PM." She checks his IV and turns back to him, holding a button.

"If you have any trouble, push this and I'll come immediately. Do you understand?" She placed the button in his hand, and he forced out a weary 'Yes'.

"Good." She said and left.

Sherlock practically dragged Ms. Hudson into the hospital.

"What room is he in?" He asked her.

"Sherlock- Sherlock please! We must check in first!" He ignored her.

"What room Ms. Hudson."

"429." Ms. Hudson said as she hastily signed them both in.

Sherlock rushed into Johns room, and looked at him. His eyes were closed, his head was bandaged, along with most of his body. He had many nasty bruises where skin wasn't covered in gauze or casts. Blankets hid his legs. Sherlock picked up his medical chart and read it.

"What does it say?" Ms. Hudson asked him, taking a seat beside John.

"He has a broken arm, four broken ribs, a broken nose, many many bruises, internal bleeding, a broken knee, and a cracked hip, all the result of a car crash..." He placed the medical chart back down and stared at John intently.

"Nurse.." John barely muttered.

"Oh dear." Ms. Hudson said. "I'll go get the nurse." She stood and left. Sherlock took her seat and reached for John's hand. A few moments later Ms. Hudson returned with the nurse. The nurse stood beside him.

"John did you need me for anything?" She asked him, John's eyes opened.

"I.. keep hearing a voice.. but it can't be.." He muttered.

"John who's voice is it?" She asked him.

"My friend.. died.. Sherlock.. talks about broken… bones." Sherlock coughed.

"I'm right here John." And squeezed his hand. John turned his head towards Sherlock and his eyes opened wide. The nurse scrambled with monitors as they started to beep.

"Get out of here you're working him up, get out!" She said to Sherlock. Ms. Hudson dragged him away from John and out of the room


	3. Chapter 3 First talk of a new life

**So I got some comments saying they were glad John didn't die, and they liked the twist so thank you :) There is more to come believe me ;)**

**Reviews are quite helpful to the writing mind.  
Guess what I don't own. Sher fucking lock 3**

Sherlock paced the waiting room nervously for half an hour, Ms. Hudson chewing on a granola bar from the vending machine.

"Don't you think it'd be nice to go in again Sherlock? He does deserve to see you." Sherlock mumbled something at the thought and froze.

"Well I do suppose I should. But perhaps you should go first Ms. Hudson, so he doesn't get worked up again." Sherlock asked her, glancing at his room. Ms. Hudson nodded and stuffed her granola bar into her purse.

"Yes he's all right now Ms. Hudson, but please, you and your friend might work him up again and if that happens you probably shouldn't stay any longer." The nurse said, staring at a rapidly pacing Sherlock

"Oh thank you dear." Ms. Hudson said and smiled.

"Oh Sherlock! We can go in now!" She waved at him and walked into John's room. Sherlock took a deep breath. This was it. John would have questions for sure, and he might get worked up again. He sighed, a proper, deep sigh, and walked into the room.

"What the fucking HELL have you been doing Sherlock huh? You leave me to fucking think you're dead and then, might I add I'm in the I-C-U, you decide to just show up like nothing ever happened?" John said to him, it was quite clear he was trying to raise his voice, but he was still not strong enough to hold a steady yell. Sherlock sat down beside John's bed, John staring at him with tears running down his one eye that wasn't swollen shut. John was a sight to see for sure.

"John please. I am here now and I will answer all your questions." Sherlock said quite simply, mentally kicking himself. He'd never been too good at the whole 'social interaction' thing, or the 'sympathy' game, or the 'empathy' trick. He kept his eyes on John, and John did the same.

"Well I suppose I could leave you two together for a bit if you'd like." Ms. Hudson said nervously and scurried out before anyone could make a word.

"Sherlock please I-" Johns voice broke. The silence remained for a few minutes, neither daring to break it for his own reasons. Sherlock was in fear of ruining the moment, John in fear of bursting into a fit of sobs in front of his formerly dead best friend.

"Sherlock," John finally broke the silence, his voice low and quiet. "Sherlock do you even understand what you did…" He trailed off, staring up at the light above him.

"Of course I know what I did John!" Sherlock exclaimed, then calmed down. "Of course I did. I was protecting you." He finished. John looked at him, expression unreadable.

"Oh were you?" He mumbled.

"Of course I was John, I would never hurt you, Ms. Hudson, or even let Moriarty get the victory of killing me."

"So Moriarty… was behind.. it?" John forced out. It was now almost eight, and John was getting sleepy.

"Yes, he had guns on you, Ms. Hudson, and Lestrade. If I didn't jump you would all…" he paused. "You would have died John." He grabbed Johns hand again and John weakly pulled away, Sherlock letting him.

"It was still quite rude of you to just go and kill yourself without asking permission of your best friend." John said, managing a small chuckle, which Sherlock returned.

"So Sherlock," John asked. "How did you do it?"

"Oh simple, I got Molly to take care of my 'corpse' when I died, have a replacement, etc, bury a fake, and let me sneak off free of charge and death."

"But how did you manage such a jump without dying?"

"Oh it's all very simple John, I fell at a certain position that I would only escape with bruising at most, and I had this rubber ball under my arm, the pulse didn't register, it was quick and easy." The pair stayed silent for a while, and this was when Sherlock realized his companion was fast asleep. He stood up, wrapped his coat around himself and walked out, shutting off John's light


	4. Chapter 4 The problem in the head

**I just realized that the way puts up my documents, it's not that easy to distinguish the way I separate my paragraphs. My apologies, I'll fix it in future chapters. Enjoy :)  
**

Back at his flat, Sherlock paced.  
"Here you go dear." Ms. Hudson said holding up a cup of tea. Sherlock took it without question and continued to pace. She stared at him for a moment, but he ignored her.  
"Well Sherlock, if you need me I'll be in my flat. Goodnight dear." She said, giving him a comforting look. He nodded.  
"Goodnight Ms. Hudson."

John awoke suddenly, pain flaring in his head. He grasped at the call button and pressed it multiple times. A nurse ran in and saw John grasping desperately at his head.  
"Doctor! Doctor get in here!" She yelled, adjusting his monitors. A doctor rushed in and examined him.  
"Where does it hurt?" He asked, and John pointed to his head.  
"Ca- can't- it hur-" John was cut off by a beeping coming from one of the monitors.  
"Emma, we need to-" The doctor's voice trailed off as John fell out of consciousness.

He awoke in a strange place, his head was on fire. He couldn't move, his whole body felt like it was weighted with rocks. He looked around as best he could, and he saw that he was in a different room. He tried to press the call button, and after much attempt at trying to do it without missing and hitting the bar on the side of the bed, he managed to push it. The same nurse, Emma, as John presumed from what the Doctor said, came in.  
"Oh John you're awake." She said uncertainly. "I'll go get Dr. Helms for you." She walked out of the room and John was alone again for several minutes until a distressed looking doctor walked in.

"John." He started. "I don't know how to say this slowly, so I'm just going to say it. That headache was a result of a tumour in your brain." John looked at the ceiling.  
"John… This will be hard to hear, but it is fatal. You were just in surgery to try and remove some of it, but it's too close to your brain and we can't get all of it without killing you."  
"W- When." John stammered.  
"When what?" The doctor asked.  
"When will I- will I die."  
"At any time. We really have no indication of when you will die, but we know that you will."  
"Can you make… make an assumption?"  
"We really don't know John. You will not make another ten years, that we know, but any breath could be your last. I'm so sorry. The hospital will release you once your bones have healed up, in about two weeks. Then you'll be free to do what you like." The two said nothing for quite a while.  
"Thank you doctor." John said finally.  
"No problem John." he replied, putting a hand on John's leg. He stood and left, and John drifted off again.

**Bitch doctor. Hope you enjoyed :)**

**REVIEWS UNF  
**


	5. Chapter 5 Off for milk!

**Wooo okay, so you are going to be absolutely frustrated with me for this, but I have no choice sadly :(  
****I'm going to my grandparents house, and my laptop won't work there because I need to put an ice pack under it (Overheats wayyy to fucking quickly) and it's just way to much of a hassle to bring it, and yeah. But I'm going there for twO FUCKING WEEKS. So no updates. I'm leaving this sunday (In two days) I'll try to post as many chapters as I can, but I'm having a bit of a writer's block (Hence why this chapter is so short, I had something else but I really didn't like it, it seemed to fast and forced so I deleted it) But I'll try to get at least two or three chapters before I leave.**

**Also, to those asking if the car crash caused the tumour, or saying that the tumour couldn't be caused by a car crash, it wasn't. It was just a very bad turn of events for poor old Watson. I felt bad, yes, giving him a tumour, but I have a whole plan for the rest of this fic, so don't worry, he won't die too soon :)**

**You could leave me wonderful reviews to come home to :)**

"Oh Sherlock! Sherlock where are you?" Ms. Hudson's voice rang out throughout the flat.  
"Sherlock! Sher- Oh!" She gasped at the sleeping Sherlock on his chair, violin on the ground in front of him and he hadn't changed into his night clothes. Should she wake him or let him be? She sighed, he should probably know about this.  
"Sherlock.." She whispered, shaking his shoulders.  
"Sherlock wake up, I need to tell you something." She shook a little rougher and he bounced up, wide awake.  
"Ms. Hudson! Oh good morning Ms. Hudson. Seems I fell asleep on my chair hmm, interesting, haven't done that yet." He said in rapid fire. She gave him a funny look. "Now Ms. Hudson, what is it you want to tell me?" he asked.  
"Well it's about John." she said.  
"What about John?"  
"Well the hospital called today, you didn't answer so I did, and they said-"  
"What? What did they say?"  
"Oh Sherlock calm down! They told me he can come home in two weeks time, he will still be quite tired and in pain, but the most of his injuries will be healed up by then. Just no.. running." She smiled, as did Sherlock. He clapped her on her shoulders and ran to get his coat.

"Sherlock wait, it's not visiting hours yet!" She called after him. He reappeared in his coat and scarf.  
"No worries Ms. Hudson, going to the store to get some milk." He ran out the door, leaving it wide open. Ms. Hudson laughed and shut it behind him, returning to her own flat.


	6. Chapter 6

**I wanted this chapter (Particularly the end) to show Sherlock's respect and love for John, not just in the sexual/romantic way everyone knows exists (I mean come on. It's totally canon.) But in more of a friendly way. Also nEWS; I'll only be gone for one week :)**

[Approximately two weeks later, the day of John's release.]

"Yes, and he will be better in a few weeks time, his arm musn't be put through much activity, though stretching it out every once and a while is good, be sure to.." The nurse's voice trailed off as John sat in front of her. He'd given this speech many times before, he didn't need to hear it again. His thoughts drifted towards his tumour. He had talked with the doctors about treatment options, to prolong his life, but John refused. He didn't want to be in a hospital for the rest of his days, he wanted to live them out as a normal man should. He sighed. How would be break the news to Sherlock or Ms. Hudson? They would be devastated, though Sherlock wouldn't show it. Part of him wished he would have died in that car accident, avoiding this whole thing completely. Sherlock would have come home to a dead John, no news to break, no gentle voice saying "Your friend was killed in an accident.", Sherlock would already know. Sherlock always knows. The nurse finished her speech and walked John to the front door of the Hospital, where Sherlock awaited him with a cab.

"Ah, a- Sherlock please be careful, I- ah! Okay Sherlock, _gently_ please." John said, trying to get into the cab that Sherlock had called to bring him and John home from the hospital.  
"Sorry John." Sherlock said, beaming. He shut John's door and walked around to his, climbed in and told the driver their address.  
"So how are you coming along?" Sherlock asked John, eyeing his still casted arm.  
"Better. I can walk now, with a cane for a bit. Soon this arm will be healed up and I'll be the… picture of health." He nervously chuckled and looked out the window. Sherlock brushed his hair with his fingers.  
"It will be nice to have you back." Sherlock said to him. John nodded, but didn't reply.

"Oh John! Wonderful to have you home dear!" Ms. Hudson said, hugging him as they entered the flat of 221b  
"Yes Ms. Hudson, th-thank you." John said, wincing. She smiled at him.  
"Let me make you some tea." She disappeared into the kitchen. John sat down on an armchair and placed his cane beside him. Sherlock took the seat in front of him. They both said nothing for a while, then Ms. Hudson came around with some tea. They all sat together making small talk, and at around Four twenty five, Ms. Hudson dashed off to go meet some friends. John shortly fell asleep in his chair, and Sherlock cleaned up the dishes from tea. He came back and looked at John, placing a blanket over him.

"A return of a hero." Sherlock whispered, and smiled

**See where I got the title from? ;)**


	7. Chapter 7 The Game, Ms Hudson, is on!

**[AN] So I am back (Yay) AND I AM SO SORRY OH MY GOD. It's totally a fuck up on my part because I forgot the password for my account... I am so sorry .**

** And I have gotten requests to make the chapters longer so I will, but that does mean a bit longer of an update time, and since school starts on Wednesday, even longer! But I will tease you with this little peek at what will come later. It's very short I know, but I didn't really want to give anything crucial away... I know I suck at this :P Bare with me.**

* * *

Sherlock grabbed Johns arms and pulled him in for a kiss. John's eyes opened wide. Sherlock broke contact and ran into the dark.

* * *

John woke with a start, the headlights flashed, he was falling, a horn, a bike.

He was sweating, his heart racing. He stood up and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. These dreams have been happening a lot lately. He held the glass in his hand and felt the cool water move. His arm was getting a lot better now, it had been two weeks since he had left the hospital, and he was having spontaneous headaches, but he didn't worry. The doctor said that was normal. He placed the glass down and walked into the sitting room. The clock on the wall said 1:34. He looked out the dark window and sighed. He was having problems sleeping lately also, not something the doctor had said. Looking around the room, he decided to just go back to bed, when he passed Sherlock's door. He paused when he heard footsteps coming from the inside. He pressed his ear to the door and heard Sherlock mumbling something illegible. He decided against knocking, and continued to his room. There, he lay down and pretended to sleep, eventually drifting off.

"Good morning John." Sherlock said, handing John a slice of toast with jam on it. John took it and bit into it.  
"Thank you Sherlock." he smiled, and Sherlock smiled back. "Any cases today?" The army doctor asked. The consulting detective shook his head.  
"No we don't but the day is still young!" He was already wearing his coat and scarf.  
"You.. going somewhere?" John asked. Sherlock shook his head.  
"No, just got back from the shoppe, we were out of jam."  
"Oh well thank you Sherlock." John finished the toast while sherlock cleared the table.

"NO! No! You can't! Oh you FOOL." Sherlock yelled at the TV. John smirked and looked up from his computer.  
"Still into reality TV are we?"  
"Of course John."  
"Alright then." He looked back at his computer.  
"John?" Sherlock asked as a hamburger commercial started. John looked up again.  
"Yes?"  
"Want to do something different tonight? I'm dreadfully tired of Ms Hudson's cooking, we could go out."  
"Sure Sherlock, sounds great." John said and looked down again. Sherlock said nothing and finished the program.

"Um yes I'll have the lasagna please." John smiled at the waiter and handed up his menu.  
"I'll have the steak." Sherlock said and also gave him the menu. After the waiter left, Sherlock leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. "Want to play the game?" Sherlock asked John, who nodded. "Sure, go with that girl over there." He pointed to a woman sitting alone in the booth at the far corner of the restraunt.  
"Oh easy." Sherlock smiled. "She's waiting for a date she knows won't come, that's why she's requested a seat back there and why she's on her third glass of wine and why she's just ordered the bill, presumably along with a fourth glass." Sherlock smiled at John. John shook his head. "How could you know that?"  
"Easy John, look at her, she's kicked her heels off, she's not used to wearing them. She's only worn them along with the obviously uncomfortable dress to impress someone, her hair is done up with much too much hairspray so she was hoping for some intercourse later on, and she keep glancing at the door, but not at her phone. Which shows that it's most likely a blind date that her friend said was 'very nice and very cute' which is totally false since he's standing her up. She knows it because she's on her third... No fourth glass of wine now. She's ordered the bill and ate two baskets of breadsticks. She's resting her face roughly in her hands with shows she doesn't care anymore about her makeup and now see! She's taking out her phone to text her friend about the stand up." John smiled and shook his head. "Brilliant." Sherlock beamed at his friend. The waiter came with their food and they ate it in silence, Sherlock finished first, and after John finished they left.

"I'm lighting a fire John." He called out to John, who was in his room taking his coat off. John returned and sat in front of the fire. Sherlock joined him. They made small talk for a bit, and then John fell asleep. Sherlock sat back and looked at him. Smiling, he touched his face. "I've missed you John." he said, and kissed his forehead.

* * *

"Multiple GSW's to the chest, major overkill. Vic is a white female, early 20's coming home from a club. Found by the highway, tox's came back negative for drugs, but her alcohol content was high." Lestrade's voice came through the phone Sherlock was holding.  
"Yes, so why did you call me?" Sherlock asked impatiently.  
"Because we need you."  
"But it's simple, she was picked up by a man who wanted her for sex, she said no, he killed her. Probably reminded him of a family member or ex-lover."  
"Sherlock."  
"What?"  
"He... he drew a pentagram around her." Sherlock paused.  
"A- A pentagram?"  
"Yes, a pentagram. In blood, but not her blood." Sherlock heard Lestrade say something in the background. "Listen Sherlock I've got to go but come round the station you've got to see this." He hung up.

"John we have a case." Sherlock said opening John's door. John was making his bed, and looked up.  
"Really?"  
"Yes, I'll explain on the way."

"So he drew a pentagram around her in blood?" John said, giving Lestrade a strange look. Lestrade nodded.  
"Yeah, weird stuff."  
"It's not ritualistic, he didn't do it right." Sherlock said, looking at a picture of the girl. "If he was using her in a ritual he wouldn't have shot her..." He scanned the picture and rolled his eyes. "I should have known." He whispered. John looked up.  
"What?"  
"Moriarty." Sherlock stomped his foot and stormed out of the room.

* * *

**Ain't it cute when Sherlock tries to impress John? Yeah I thought so too :3**


End file.
